


Bumps in the Night

by ImmortalCoelacanth



Series: A Coe-llection of AU Content! [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dadza commits long range adoption because he can, Gen, Humour, I gave Eret a sheep plushie because I can, Quackity scares easily, borrower au, borrower!Phil, borrower!Techno, borrower!Techno is a master of mental warfare, other smp members are mentioned but I didn't want to tag them because their scenes are short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28373493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmortalCoelacanth/pseuds/ImmortalCoelacanth
Summary: Surely Quackity wasn’t the only one who noticed the supernatural things happening recently. The stuff that randomly got moved around, the spilled sugar that had the word “DEATH” written in it, as well as the various threats scribbled into every sheet of paper in his room.The house was haunted. It had to be.
Series: A Coe-llection of AU Content! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124666
Comments: 12
Kudos: 112





	1. Haunted

**Author's Note:**

> *does a little dance*
> 
> I have no control over my brain~

There was no such thing as ghosts. 

It was a mantra Quackity had been repeating to himself for the past week, chanting the words over and over again as if that would make them anymore true. He had hoped,  _ prayed _ , that his words would have some sort of an impact on whatever accursed being was haunting him.

…  _ Not _ haunting him, because ghosts didn’t exist!

Even if there was an increasing amount of evidence that might prove otherwise. 

For the past several days, strange things had been happening in the shared house. The proposed idea had been to get a space where people could  _ vibe _ together and even sleepover depending on how comfortable they felt, and Quackity had been ecstatic when he received an invitation. 

The perfect chance to rub elbows with some celebrities, make friends, and get some of that  _ sweet _ clout! The opportunity had been too good to pass up! Everything had started out perfectly, too! There had been plenty of shared laughs, fun gaming moments, and the atmosphere was warm and welcoming.

… Or it had been, until Wilbur started joking about making a  _ government. _

Tommy and Tubbo were immediately on board, and the reactions of others had varied from interest to indifference. He remembered someone, it could have been George, joking about having an election if Wilbur was planning on establishing a government. From there conversations had broken off into people expressing interest in joining Wilbur’s party, he had seen Niki and Fundy chatting about that, while others brought up establishing their own factions. 

Honestly, Quackity was fine with what was going on. All it meant was that he might have a decent chance at snagging some power, potential influence over the group, which sounded  _ awesome _ , and that he could make some allies in the process. Plans were made with fun in mind, and everyone settled in for a good night’s rest. 

Funnily enough, it would be the last peaceful day all of them experienced. 

For some strange reason, things started happening after the discussions about establishing different factions and government parties. It started out with small, almost unnoticeable things, like the salt and sugar containers being swapped, gum getting put on faucets and causing water to splash everywhere. 

Simple things, and everyone assumed that there was some sort of a prank war going on. Fingers were immediately pointed at Tommy and Tubbo, the duo known for causing problems, especially Tommy, and of course the pair denied having any involvement. The issue was not pressed further since nothing all that serious was happening.

… And then the “pranks” started intensifying. 

_ Traps _ were laid in most rooms of the house, not even bedrooms were safe, and while it had been funny to see Dream get a bucket of water dumped on him after he opened a door, it left the group confused and mildly concerned as to who was doing this, and why. At least the accusations towards Tommy and Tubbo had been cleared up after the latest “prank”. 

It had taken Wilbur  _ ages _ to get all the glitter out of Tommy’s hair, and even then the teen still left a trail of sparkles wherever he walked. A quick inspection of his room also resulted in the discovery of vaseline coating most surfaces in the room, tacks that had been placed in his shoes, and the dried glue that had coated the screen of his phone. Thankfully, the phone had been saved and Tommy had managed to get out of his room relatively unscratched. 

This was also when Quackity started hearing things. 

Someone humming a haunting tune as  _ something  _ was scrapped across the walls, he was fairly certain the sounds were coming from the vents based on the metallic tones, and the most he had been able to decipher was that the source of the humming came from a voice that belonged to no one in the house. 

Unless Karl was inviting someone over to prank them for a new video challenge, but even then Quackity was certain he would never involve himself in something so malicious. 

Especially since he had lost a couple colourful hoodies to the hostile tricks. Some kind of food dye mixed with a paste of unknown origins, Tommy had joked about it being drugs, had been smeared into his hoodies. His agonized wailing had woken everyone up that morning. 

So, by process of elimination, Quackity had started to suspect that something supernatural might be going on. A decision that was in no way influenced by the emergence of some new, popular horror games that scared the living crap out of him. 

… Or the various times Tommy had lunged out of the darkness wearing a scary mask, causing the jumpy man to let out a terrified shriek. He would never be able to thank Eret enough for catching him after he had accidentally flung himself over a railing while trying to escape. They had just barely been able to stop him from landing face first on the hard floor, and saved him from the fate of having a broken nose. 

He had gotten them a sheep plushie, wool dyed in a specific darker pink, purple, and blue pattern, as a way of saying thank you. He had actually seen them walking around with the sheep several times, occasionally balancing it on their head. The last he knew of the sheep, Eret had been discussing getting a matching crown for it to wear as well. 

Back to the topic at hand, Quackity had begun investigating the house to see if there were any signs of a supernatural haunting taking place. He looked up whether the structure was built on a graveyard, sprinkled salt in the doorways, and made some discount holy water he had nearly thrown on Ranboo when the other man accidentally scared him. 

He had gotten jumpier of late, not just because of the hauntings, but because the ghost seemed to be  _ aware _ of his efforts. 

And was now deliberately targeting him. 

One morning he had woken up to find the container of salt he had been using knocked onto its side, the salt spilled out with the word  _ death _ spelled out in it. Another word he had seen written out, but on a wall, was  _ anarchy. _

So, they were being haunted by an anarchist ghost? Well, the timeline of the hauntings made sense, then. 

At this point Quackity had been debating on using a cross, not wanting to walk into a room to find it turned upside down. 

_ God this was turning into a horror movie. _

With the intensification of the hauntings, Quackity had made what he felt was the smartest decision since he had first begun investigating the ghost. He pretended it did not exist, that  _ ghosts _ did not exist, and promptly ignored every sign of its activity. 

He did not get rid of the salt of course. He wasn’t an idiot. 

By being attentive to the ghost’s activity, he had gained its attention, so that meant that if he refused to acknowledge its existence then it should leave him alone.

Right? 

Right! And that’s exactly what Quackity did. He immediately stopped all his research and note taking. Halted his interviews with the other members of the house and what had happened to them, and started repeating that key phrase over and over again. 

_ There’s no such thing as ghosts. _

He refused to acknowledge the part of himself that pointed out that if ghosts did not exist, that meant there was something else causing the strange happenings throughout the house, something that could potentially be  _ worse _ than a ghost. Demons, some malicious, incomprehensible entity that sought to destroy their world and had started out by tormenting a group of teens and adults, who knew. 

Certainly not Quackity! He was washing his hands clean of  _ any _ involvement in this mess and, fortunately enough, his efforts soon bore fruit as he noticed that there were less and less things going on that directly involved him. It was relieving, freeing. 

However, things once again took a turn once night fell and the young man settled in for bed. He had immediately started his mental mantra as he got comfortable beneath the covers, eyes shutting as he heard the beginnings of a storm above head. 

_ There’s no such thing as ghosts, there’s no such thing- _

The trees outside creaked and groaned as the winds grew wilder, and he shuddered. 

Not in fear! Because there was nothing to be afraid of! It was just his mind playing tricks on him and he  _ totally _ was not being haunted right now-

Quackity jolted in his bed as the sound of thunder rumbled above him, and he quietly cursed the unfortunate timing of the storm coinciding with his increasing paranoia. The faint bursts of lightning that illuminated his room cast shadows on everything, making the space unrecognizable before the darkness consumed it once more. 

He hated it. Hated how much it put him on edge and how his eyes flickered back and forth, trying to spot something that did not belong. 

… But everything was fine! There was nothing out of place! No new things had invaded his room, there were no monsters under the bed-

Another flash of lighting and the sight of a shadow bolting to the side of the room caused Quackity to throw his blanket over his head so he was hidden from sight. If he was hidden from sight, he was safe. No ghost could see him, he would be fine.

He was safe, he was safe-

_ Quackity. _

He flinched, internally freaking out because  _ holy shit I heard my  _ **_name-_ **

It wasn’t a ghost, a ghost had totally  _ not _ said his name, nor was a ghost trying to communicate with him. Surely there was just someone at his door, trying to get his attention! Yes, that was it! That had to be it!

Slowly, he lowered the blanket and lifted his head, quickly glancing around the room before his eyes eventually landed on the door. Light spilled through the bottom, the hallway lights were always on, but he did not see a shadow belonging to someone standing outside his door. It looked like no one was there. He sat up a bit more, eyes narrowing as his mouth opened, ready to ask if someone was there.

But before he could, something else happened. 

_ Crash! _

Without warning, the window broke.

Or it  _ seemed _ to break based on the sudden gust of wind blasted the room, curtains swaying in the resulting gales. Quackity let out a shriek and cringed backwards as the cold invaded his room, nearly smacking his head off the frame of the bed. Lightning flashed, and for a moment all he could see was a single word written on his wall, over and over. 

_ DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE- _

He was so  _ fucked. _

Not wanting to engage with anything that was going on, he retreated back below the covers. The peace granted to his by this darkness lasted for only a moment as lights, bright orange lights, started glowing above him. Bright enough to be seen, yet dull enough for the shape to be practically indecipherable. 

“Quuuuaaaaakiiityyyyyyy.”

The ghost knew his name.

_ The ghost knew his fucking name. _

“N-Not here!” He squeaked, shutting his eyes and refusing to look at whatever was going on. “You picked the wrong room! No one here with that name-”

“Do you think you can escape from your sins?” The ghost boomed, thunder following a moment later. “That you would suffer no repercussions for your crimes?”

“L-Listen! Listen, man! I… I ain’t done no crimes! Wilbur’s th-the dirty crime boy around here!” He babbled, occasionally letting out a nervous laugh. “We-we can be  _ chill-” _

“You put  _ salt _ in the door frames-”

“ _ OKAY, OKAY!  _ I  _ DID!”  _ Quackity wailed. “You’re just  _ SCARY _ , gh-”

Ghost. 

He was talking to a ghost.

_ Arguing _ with a ghost. 

**_Ghosts were real._ **

As if sensing the sudden change in Quackity’s mood, the ghost spoke up once more. He sounded smug,  _ dangerously _ smug,  and it was clear to the cowering man that he was completely and utterly doomed. There would be no escaping this situation.

“Oh, that’s right. You  _ fucked up,” _

_ THE GHOST WAS  _ **_SWEARING_ ** _ AT HIM- _

“You fucked up  _ real _ bad, and not all crimes can be forgiving or forgotten,  _ Quackity. _ You’ve crossed the threshold of no return. This is the culmination of your choices in life.”

Hoping he might have a chance to bargain with the malicious entity, he opened his eyes and slowly peeked over the edge of his blanket. The glowing was gone, for now, but the ghost was  _ definitely _ still here. 

Waiting, lurking,  _ watching. _

Another burst of lightning illuminated the room, and he finally saw the ghost. Saw the rough, blob-like outline in the flashes of light. Saw the way it seemed to focus, gaining more details with each passing second. 

As if it was manifesting right in front of him so it could steal his  _ life- _

“And…”

The shadow created by the ghost seemed to stretch over the wall in front of him, growing taller and taller until it encompassed  _ everything _ . The outline finally became solid and he could see it in its entirety from the pointed ears, to the tusks, and even the glowing eyes-

Was… was the ghost a  _ pig ghost?  _

Unfortunately, before he could pursue that train of thought, or really take note of anything other than the ghostly shadow before him, that gravelly voice spoke up once more. 

_ “There’s no escape.” _

Quackity screamed. 

**xxxxxxxxxx**

The arrival of dawn found Quackity in the living room, huddling on a sofa while he was curled up on his side, face pressed into the cushions. Niki and Bad had found him in the morning as both bakers tended to get up much earlier than the others so they had the kitchen to themselves. 

Needless to say, the terrified young man had soon found himself with a blanket wrapped around his shoulder, a mug of steaming hot chocolate held in his hands, and Bad offering him freshly baked muffins to eat. The support was just what he needed to unwind and explain what had happened during the previous night. 

The sudden winds, the voice that had spoken to him, the lights, and the shadow.

He was, understandably, way too terrified to go back. Sapnap took the lead and quickly assembled a group to investigate and see what they could find, whether that consisted of some clue that might help them solve this mystery, or a beheaded goat. A search of his room showed that there was no sign of the mysterious ghost that had tormented him during the night. The window was shut and not at all broken, nothing was damaged, and the only thing out of place was the blankets that Quackity had thrown off himself when he had fled the room. It left everyone confused as to what he had seen, or thought he had seen and heard. 

Slowly, the group filtered out of the room as nothing could really be done or checked out. Sam mentioned the possibility of getting an infrared camera to see if that might help in seeing what was going on during the night, or getting a uv light. 

“Alright bruv, didn’t know we’re in Phasmopboia now.” 

That got an amused snort out of the taller man, who reached over and ruffled Tommy’s hair. The teen immediately started shouting and cursing while shoving Sam’s hand off him, trying and failing to hide the faint smile that had appeared on his face. 

Unfortunately for the retreating residents of the house, no one noticed the tiny grappling hook that had been dangling from the side of the windowsill, partially hidden by one of the curtains. 

Nor did anyone hear the laughter coming from a certain, tiny many sprinting through the vents back to his base, the tools used to execute his evil deeds being carried along in a sled behind him. 


	2. ... Or Not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! Before I wrote the other borrower fic I'm still working on, I was originally planning to work on *another* fic that was going to be set in this universe with borrower!Techno and borrower!Phil, because the mental images were just too good to pass up. I'm not gonna start it though since I already have way too many fics and wips on my plate, but I might post some individual chapters I had planned out because... why not!

“Are you finished tormenting the children?” The question, laced with amusement on the speaker’s part, was addressed to the other person currently sorting through his items in the main room of their base. 

It was a relatively small space, walls littered with all sorts of decorations like sparkly bottle caps, small flowers, and bits of colourful fabric that had been gathered during their stay at the house. All stolen, or  _ borrowed _ as some members of their species insisted, but they knew the truth. 

Stealing was stealing, but neither of the pair felt any regret towards their actions. 

“I’ll be finished when that government of theirs is.” A man responded, tall for his species with long, braided pink hair. He wore a decorative, ceramic pig mask that had been made for him before he set out from his home and made a name for himself. 

That name being Technoblade. 

His companion, another man of a similar stature with blond hair, a green cloak, and an oddly bucket-like hat, let out an amused snort and shook his head. “Then I guess they’re screwed. Last I heard they were planning on making  _ three _ different governments.” 

“That’s just three times the torment, Phil.” Techno stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s just what they deserve.” 

“... I don’t think you ever made it clear why you were doing this-”

“Well, it’s on them for not figuring out the consequences of their actions.” The mask wearing man bluntly said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Y’know, personal responsibility and all,  _ Dadza.” _

Phil sighed and rolled his eyes while walking over to a “chair”, a stolen glove that had been filled with fabrics, and flopped into it. He put his head in his hands and sighed again. “Don’t start with that again-”

“You’ve basically long range adopted  _ three _ of them-”

That got a loud groan out of Phil, making Techno laugh at the dramatic response. It was a running joke between the two of them, how Phil had gravitated towards watching a certain trio and making sure they were alright. How he would occasionally place a snack nearby if he felt they weren’t eating enough, and the mild displeasure he had expressed when Techno first started with his schemes. 

Not that he could stop the other man, of course. Phil knew it would be a futile attempt and Techno would continue to do what he was doing. All he could really hope for was that the group might realize that there was a pattern to Techno’s antics. 

He always aimed for the ones who were the most vocal in their wishes for establishing a mock government. 

It was why his torment had been aimed at the one called Quackity for some time given how vocal he was about wanting to help run a government. It was also part of the reason why Techno had gone all out tonight as he had overheard Quackity talking about who he planned to team up with for the elections. A strategic play that would hopefully delay the process if not halt it entirely. 

“It’s not my fault none of them seem to know how to take care of themselves.” Phil countered. “And I know you’re fond of some of them too! You’re always planning on messing with that Dream guy, and I’ve seen those notes you left Tommy!” 

Techno just grinned evilly, his smile barely visible thanks to his mask, and Phil sighed again before making his way to their kitchen. 

He was doing a lot of that today, sighing, but he was starting to get used to his son’s antics. At least he wasn’t actually trying to hurt anyone. No maiming, or killing, mainly due to Phil’s insistence. 

Also the fact that the humans they lived with were  _ very _ good at accidentally leaving food out as well as being forgetful about where they left things. Even with how many people stayed in the house, and the constantly changing number of visitors, this place was the ideal location for more skilled borrowers to settle down. 

In the case of Phil and Techno, it was also a great way to discourage other borrowers from trying to find them… 

Phil shook himself out of his thoughts, not wanting to dwell on the past as he started brewing some tea to drink. He could faintly smell the freshly made muffins. Niki seemed quite nice, as did Bad. 

It was unfortunate that the innate differences between them, both mentality and size, made it practically impossible for him to ever properly meet them, as well as some of the others. Of course, there were stories about borrowers who had befriended humans, or tales of agreements that had been reached between borrower settlements and humans, but things  _ always _ turned out poorly eventually. 

Death, and betrayal, and more death. 

The steam leaving the shoddily fashioned kettle alerted the man to the boiling of the water, and he quickly snagged one of the ceramic, chipped mugs. 

He was still happy that he and Techno had managed to settle themselves here. There were enough isolated spaces to get some peace and quiet, and the humans were pretty entertaining to watch, or mess with. 

Phil grinned to himself as he listened to the other man slowly lug his supplies over to the newly made storage room. He knew for a fact that Techno had spent days planning for last night, meticulously making sure that every piece of equipment he needed would work perfectly and be able to accomplish his goal of scaring the living shit out of Quackity. From the specialty made cutout to the flashlight he had modified, and even the cylinder he had been using to amplify his voice, a lot of work had gone into the flawless execution of his “haunting”. 

Techno could be quite…  _ thorough _ when waging mental warfare. 

Phil hummed softly to himself as he enjoyed the rest of his tea. Around him, he heard the normal chaos of the house slowly grow in volume. The sounds of people arguing, laughing, and, if he listened  _ real _ closely, the voice of Wilbur discussing the upcoming election. 

Oh dear, looks like he found Techno’s next target. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm debating on whether or not to make a series that's just all my borrower AU fics and oneshots for the Dream SMP so everything is organized and easier to read... 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed reading!
> 
> \- ImmortalCoelacanth


End file.
